10 Songfics
by ThisBookBelongsTo
Summary: A series of drabbles loosely based on the first 10 songs that played on shuffle. Each one written over the duration of that song only. Just a little Trekkie goodness, really, but please do let me know what you think! Each chapter another set of 10. Needless to say, I do not own :'(
1. Chapter 1

10 song-based pieces

**1. The Great Pretender**

Kirk sighed. Shrugging out of his command shirt, he security-locked the door before sinking down the wall into a heap on the floor of his cabin. He felt like the world was on his shoulders, and he was buckling under the weight. Unbidden, the image of one who could better carry his burden floated before his closed eyes. Spock.

Spock, with broad shoulders and resolute determination... Yes, he could do it. But he was gone. Gone... Kirk smothered the involuntary sob in the crook of his arm.

**2. Ole Black 'N' Blue Eyes**

The night had hidden the extent of his injuries from his friend when they returned to the hotel the night before. But now, in the light of day, purple-brown patches were blossoming magnificently along his arms and neck. "Jim..." was all Spock could manage, his breath taken away by the vulnerability of his captain.

"She..." the captain winced, trying to stand but getting nowhere. "She was..." He seemed at a loss for words, but Spock understood.

"The Orions are not reputed for their integrity, captain," he chastised fondly.

**3. My Life**

"I just... I don't know if I can do this any more," Kirk murmured quietly. Standing to attention at his bedside, Spock said nothing. He did not know what to say. "So many people, so much to manage..." The captain seemed to lose his train of thought, his gaze drifting into the middle distance.

"Too many people have died, Spock," he almost-snarled.

"Yes."

"I have let too many people die." This earned him a vehement shake of the head from his friend. "Never. Under any other captain, our casualties would have been far greater." Spock sensed that Jim would not appreciate precise statistics right now.

"I just feel so... alone. Out of place," Jim searched for the right words. "Like... I don't belong any more. I think I've been responsible for too many deaths for people to like me," he sighed forlornly.

"No..." breathed Spock gently. "Although, I am not technically _people_..."

**4. Joanna**

McCoy had drunk at least four times as much as he would have done on board the ship, and he had reached that stage of drunkenness best referred to as 'maudlin'. "She's everywhere I look, Jim," he moaned pitifully. "Nothing I do seems to make any difference. She made me happy, and now..." He paused to swallow back another shot of unidentified alcohol. It burned at his raw throat, but right now he couldn't care less. "Hell, I'm not even sure I remember _how_ to be happy anymore."

"I just keep ignoring the pain, pretending like I don't care, because when you're being all heroic, and Spock's being... well, Spock," he sighed, "I don't want to look..."

The doctor locked eyes with his friend and Kirk was concerned by the depth of sorrow he read there. "...weak," he gulped softly, waving for another drink.

**5. He's So Fine**

Spock was leaning over the scanner at the science station – Kirk couldn't help but think of it as _his_ science station. His strong physique was highlighted as the material pulled taut over his back and legs, and the captain swallowed. He tried to look away, but found that his gaze was glued immovably to the Vulcan's thankfully oblivious figure.

**6. Prime Time**

This was the life. Sailing through space, surrounded by the best damn crew in Starfleet, adventuring to unexplored new planets and working with numerous species of unimaginable variety... No, life was certainly never boring on the Enterprise. Jim smiled at his introspection. Must be getting tired to have let his attention drift so far.

"Mr. Spock, you have the conn.," he called, sotto voce, and the half-Vulcan turned to him in acknowledgement. "Yes, captain," he nodded neutrally, but Kirk thought he detected an edge of concern in those bottomless chocolate eyes. He offered his First Officer a small, reassuring smile before turning to the turbolift.

**7. We've Gotta Get Out of This Place**

The two friends cast their gaze despairingly around their latest cell. "Pretty efficient," mused Kirk, almost to himself. Spock turned and raised one eyebrow in silent query. "Well," the captain elaborated, "do you remember the last time we were in a prison quite so difficult to break out of?"

"Alpha IIV, Star System..." Spock stopped as the bemused expression on Kirk's face registered. "A rhetorical question," he half-stated, half-asked. His friend grinned then, nodding vigorously though it jarred his sore neck.

"You know, Spock, I do believe you are really coming to understand we illogical humans," he smiled. Spock raised his eyebrow in response, but the eyes beneath twinkled with suppressed laughter.

**8. Where Have All The Good Times Gone**

"What happened, Spock?" wondered Kirk aloud. He popped open the first button on his uncomfortable red tunic with a weary groan. His joints popped as he stretched stiff arms above his head and pushed away from the desk slightly. "We used to have such good times, didn't we? Such adventures," he shook his head, smiling to himself. "Remember Altair VII? That was... something."

The admiral touched a tender finger to the glass of the photograph frame, his smile dimming. "Miss you," he whispered hoarsely. The only reply was overwhelming silence.

**9. Mr. Blue Sky**

It was over. Another mission completed, another incident report, another ensign whose parents he would have to commiserate...

Kirk groaned angrily, burying his head in his arms on the desk. Didn't he used to enjoy this job? The honour and glory and all that brought with it? These days it seemed like all he did was ignore his grief and wade through the paperwork. When did it become so... difficult?

"God," he breathed, "Why do we do this?" It worried Kirk that, for the first time in his life, he had no answer.

The aroma of freshly-ground coffee materialised next to his head, and Kirk looked up. Spock was seated across the desk from him, two mugs in hand. He offered his friend that tiny half-smile, and Jim grinned tiredly. "Thanks, Spock," he smiled, taking the proffered drink. _This_ was why.

**10. Hold On**

"The lucky ones?" Kirk barked a single 'Ha!', glaring bitterly at no-one in particular. Spock watched him carefully, seated by his side.

"Jim..." murmured Spock softly. His friend turned to him enquiringly. "You are upset about the death of Yeoman Fletcher." It was not a question.

"Damnit, Spock!" he yelled suddenly, throwing down his padd. The half-Vulcan almost flinched, but he knew the rage was not really directed at him. "Why..." he sighed. There was a frightening vulnerability in his now-enrolled form, hunched in on himself as he perched on the edge of his bed.

Spock moved to sit beside him once more, resting a comforting hand on the captain's trembling shoulder until the sobs subsided. "I am here, Jim," he said firmly. It seemed to help.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: The second instalment of songfics. Hope you like them! Just one warning, really – more K/S here, but I suppose if you read the last chapter then that doesn't bother you too much. I hope not, because those guys are clearly an old married couple... I mean, look at them ^.^ Adorable!

Ahem... Anyway... Please review, even a word or two will guaranteed make my day I'll just... shut up, now, shall I, and let you read on? Good...

**1. I want to hold your hand**

Jim leaned over to look at the anomaly Spock's finger pointed to on his scanner. He reached out, touching the same spot on the screen, and for a moment their hands brushed together gently. It was the tiniest of touches, but Jim was subsumed by the flood of barely suppressed thoughts and... feelings. Spock's feelings.

**2. Sheila**

"A... 'sheila', captain?" Spock sounded genuinely befuddled, his brows pulled together almost imperceptibly in confusion. "Is this one of your human expressions?" Jim smirked affectionately before he replied, "Yes, Spock. An old term, it was used to refer to one of the _fairer_ sex."

A slight green tinge coloured Spock's cheekbones. "I... see," he murmured. "In that case, Jim, I do not consider your term appropriate in reference to the inhabitants of this planet."

"Jealous, Spock?"

"...Captain, that is preposterous."

"Yeah, right."

**3. Perfect 10**

The women of this planet were... Well, they were perfect. Modest and demure, but somehow they managed to project an undercurrent of barely suppressed flirtation. Spock did not like them one bit.

Needless to say, Jim did not share his assessment.

"Aw, come on," he pleaded. "It'll be... Yeah, never mind. You probably don't know what 'fun' even is."

Spock knew that he was being baited, but indulged his friend. "On the contrary, captain," he said, a smirk in his voice. "I merely do not consider the act of engaging in transient relations with females merely for gratification even close to 'fun'."

"Put off by their neat little stripes, Spock?" taunted Jim playfully. Spock shook his head slightly, wondering if Jim would notice his subtle admission. A moment later, his friend's eyes widened slightly.

"...Oh!"

**4. The A Team**

Pale skin, unblemished and smooth as it ran seamlessly from pointed ears to high cheekbones and the strong line of his neck. Dark, almost ebony hair, not a strand out of place. Like a porcelain doll, Spock stood stiffly by the window with hands clasped loosely behind his back. Not a muscle moved.

Not a muscle betrayed the agony of turmoil that raged just below the deceptively calm surface. He could feel it coming, the debilitating fate of his species that would take from beneath his feet every dignity he had worked hard to earn from his human crewmates. He would have to face this, eventually. But today he could hold the storm at bay. Today... Tomorrow would have to wait.

**5. Music of the Night**

The sheets stirred with a soft rustle, slipping from a leg to illuminate the bared skin in a beam of moonlight that shone from a skylight above their heads. Dark eyes gazed upwards into the delicate arrangement of stars, thinking of how delicate they seemed by comparison to seeing them close up. Gaze flitting, he tried to isolate his home, so painfully far from his reach.

Some of that longing must have slipped past his relaxed defences, because a moment later, tanned arms enveloped him in a crushing bear hug, soft, soothing nothings murmured in his pointed ear. Then a worried face eclipsed his view of the cosmos, peering down at him with loving golden-brown eyes. "Hush, now," he soothed, and Spock felt his thoughts comply with this man he had met in the stars.

**6. Desperate but Not Serious**

"I... can't answer that, Spock," Jim whispered softly, and his friend was surprised to detect a note of fear beneath the usual self-deprecating tones. "Captain," he asked again, "please?"

Jim shivered, unsettled by how vulnerable his First Officer sounded. He wondered how he could be doing this to him. _Regulations_, whispered a voice in his head. "Screw them," he snapped back at it, realising a moment later that he had spoken aloud.

"Because... because I love you," he replied to the original question.

**7. One and Only**

I have dreamed this so many times, but I never knew how loud the sound of my heart trying to escape my ribcage would be in real life. How hard it would beat against my chest. How the blood would rush in my ears, panic rising in spite of the fact that there is only one answer that I can possibly give.

"I will," I hear myself say, my voice hoarse with restrained tears. The captain of a Starship does not cry. Then a cool band of metal is on my finger, and a rich baritone is whispering in my ear. "I am given to understand that the presentation of a ring is in accordance with human tradition in such situations."

A laugh bubbles from my lips as the truth of what has just happened sinks in, and then our lips meet in blissful union.

**8. Stardust**

The lyrical flow of notes, so unlike any music he had heard before, filtered through the room between their cabins. Jim sat up in bed, listening to the delicate tune produced by Spock's dancing fingers in the next room. A small smile played about his lips as he tried to imagine his staunch First Officer relaxing, swaying slightly to the melody with a smile on his lips. Unlikely, he admonished his mind, but not inconceivable.

**9. Stand and Deliver**

The men were dressed like highwaymen from Earth's eighteenth century, brandishing crude pistols and sporting a band of black across their eyes - as if it could effectively disguise their true identities when a picture of their features decorated every space station in the galaxy on 'Wanted' posters. The one Spock assumed was their leader pointed his gun at the captain, toying with the ancient trigger menacingly. Spock calculated that a fraction more pressure would cause it to-

He darted forward, pushing the captain to the floor as, a moment later, a bullet flew over their heads. "Jim?" he asked, breathlessly, and was unutterably relieved when his friend smiled shakily up at him.

**10. One Way or Another**

Somehow, he was determined to crack through that flawless façade, and then... Jim indulged in a small mental image of Spock, sans mask. It was awe-inspiring. He had only seen it once before, and he felt honoured to think that his existence had been the reason for such joy. But now he wanted more; to see that blinding smile again, to cause uninhibited emotion to manifest itself upon Spock's angular features. God, he wanted to see it _so much_. So much it hurt.

But... what if the one emotion he was so desperate to uncover really wasn't there? What if... He shook his head firmly. He had seen the dark look in his friend's eyes when he thought Jim wasn't looking. It was just a case of drawing the admission from him. 'To make him say that he loves me too.' It was a terrifying prospect.


End file.
